I’m a ghost. . . Boo!

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I wrote recently of my trouble with dating. I mentioned that I often feel unseen. It happens more and more. It started to make me wonder am I distinguishable at all? Do I naturally drive others away? I know for a fact I’m not a magnetic person.  Nobody flocks to my side. Is it the age we live in? Is everyone troubled. I would love to just have a conversation with people. Express Ideas. Build bonds, as difficult as that is for me (autism) I would still like to try, and try hard. It’s as if the world has become more autistic than I am. I am trying to build, adapt and be a sociable being. This is what I’m building myself toward, yet no one seems to want to participate. Everyone is getting farther and farther away. I see people who are lost in the meaningless bullshit that has no real relevance in life. LIFE. Allowing themselves to be distracted by facades, and ads, and spectacles that are without substance. Everyone is looking at the hole in the doughnut of life instead of at the doughnut itself. We revolve around the void. We are not of the void. I’m trying to engage with Life but Life seems to be consistently withdrawing. I can’t get the attention of anyone I try to engage with. I’m going out of my way to build bridges no one wants to cross. Needless to say, but of course I will, I am frustrated and confused. Is it profitable in any personal measure to try and engage anymore with my fellow human beings?

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I’m a ghost. . . Boo!

My Blood Was Drawn. . . Peaceably.

 

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My blood was drawn today, vial after vial for testing. How often to see with your own eyes confirmation of the walking bag of gore we are. My mood though has been good. The good properties of my ‘New Path’ has still invigorated me. Tea times and teachings from the Buddha. I still have not kicked my pill habit. I have cut the Prozac by half. One instead of two, but the Xanax is a bit more troublesome. It’s as if my body can determine that I am specifically going to take just the one and the anxiety butterfly starts up in the chest and things constrict slowly over the passing few hours. Sometimes a headache with it. I’ve just took one and am seeing how long if and or when I’ll break.

The Five Aggregates or Skandha:

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The Five Aggregates. There is no ‘Self’. There is only the moment. I am grateful for my recent good moments. I awoke with total physical relaxation and warmth. I hope for more as I continue on my path. That being said, the darker aspects, the destructive and doom-gloom maniac machine in me rears it’s bestial head from time to time.

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I can, however, easily push it back down and away. Refocus on my present and the continual readings of ‘The Way’, are of enormous help to me. I still am dealing with the familiar problems of being an out-of-work-autistic who has still been unable to develop any meaningful relationships. The future is not even a vague outline to me. I don’t ever think of the past either. Bar scenes. Walks. Online web dating. I seem to be unable to get any reaction wherever I try. I’ve given a girl my phone number recently, only because SHE asked ME while we were chatting at the bar, but I’ve heard nary a word. Was is it about me? There is no me? I have uncovered this trend of my getting a woman’s interest but find abruptly that they want no further contact with me. I seem to come across like a great idea, but my absence suddenly seems the better. I’m no great flirt, but I can tell reasonably that I am carrying myself well. What is it? Usually, this where The Beast rears up and wants to spin me off into paranoia and frightful thoughts of my being cursed to be alone forever. The wolf does a scary chasing its tail run and usually I’d let myself be carried away by the rage and bitter brooding thoughts so easily brewin within. However, I give a Love and Peace to all who read this, or who are hearing this being read.

❤ ❤ ❤

 

My Blood Was Drawn. . . Peaceably.

I am The Tube.

 

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The fuck is wrong with me? Bad chemicals acting up again. I never should have strayed from the Prozac. Three days of feeling down and empty and like I don’t exist. Then, suddenly today I now am full of rage that I’ve just been screaming into a pillow like some animal. I feel like I don’t know who I am. I have no identity. I have no direction. All I want to do is scream and destroy my room. Can this all just be chemicals? Where was the sunny me a few days ago, enjoying his coffee and listening to music. Watching the Harry Palmer movies. Having a mellow good time with myself. How can I just abruptly become so despondent. Maybe I should forcefully change my life. Look for someone who needs a roommate in New York. Be forced out. No. I would be isolated somewhere else. I FEEL LIKE A MARIONETTE PUPPET!!! LIKE I HAVE NO STRINGS. NOTHING ABOVE KEEPING ME UP. JUST TIME AND GRAVITY KEEPING ME IN THE DOWNWARD SPIRAL. I don’t believe in time anyway. Just a construct to measure Space. What do I want to be. A man who has a good woman. A man who makes money. Now, I am nothing. Just another demolished man buried under sand dunes. No one sees. No one cares. No one will understand. I will never understand myself. I have no self. I’m a blank space. I’m not here. You’re not reading this. I am not typing now. This is not helping me. I am not here and neither are you. I’m the tube. I take in and put out. I take in and I put out. I am not human. I am a bug blinded by the taillight it’s attached to.

 

I am The Tube.

I Am For Myself, Now.

Went to a Halloween party at bar. Had a mask but never wore it. As party began in full swing it was clear to me that I wasn’t to fit in. I now deny my humanity. I want none of it. Life won’t give it. So I don’t want it. I am dead inside. I am my own world. I am the important being. I am surrounded by nothings. Space wasters. I feel nothing. I don’t ever want to feel anything again.

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I Am For Myself, Now.

All I Am is Fake.

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My whole life is fake. Fake family. Fake online friends. Fake future. Fake past Fake everything. Fake. I’m a fake. I want to be a werewolf now and go howling into the night. Sleep under a bridge. Ravage some hobos. Give me the post apocalypse. Armed with weapons. What am I gonna do? Get a job sorting mail? Room attendant? Bag Boy? I’d rather be dead. I am spinning in a zero g room with nothing to stop the spin. No one either. Friends? Of what use? Fuck them. For now on people are as only good as their usefulness. I’m taking. I’m not giving. I hope this world is coming to a close. I can’t maintain this anger. I wish I were feral.These human characteristics are pointless on me. My psychiatrist is an idiot. No advice makes me feel better. I have to do something drastic. Or maybe I’ll take another chill pill. The world from my eyes is flat. Boring. The people are the same. The streets are the same. The sounds are all the same and too loud. What would I do with friends? Pretend to laugh at their jokes. I never feel as crippled and handicapped a person as I do now. Incapable of being that person at the table feeling fully a part of the company of others. Fucking little green man. Fucking android. Fucking fake smiles and no progress. Splatter the walls with my brains.

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All I Am is Fake.

The Total Unmasking.

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I’m finally back on my Xanax and am feeling close to normal. That busy bee of anxiety in my chest is gone. My sleep is back to being relaxed. This Wednesday I went out to socialize but I only managed to get drunk and forget most of who I was talking to and what about. I will probably make another attempt later tonight. I will not drink, however since I am back on medication. I’m going to a Halloween type get together and my mask will be my mask of normalcy. Maybe. I’m tired of hiding my aspie self. I probably won’t go out. I’ll flake out and be depressed that I didn’t. I was supposed to meet a friend at the meetup at the bar this wednesday but they didn’t show up, just as they always never do. I doubt people really want to be friends. Not in real life. I should just give up on that stupid fantasy. I am meant to watch as an outsider. I will never be in Life. What value is in that? Is there some advantage? I can’t find it. I want to cut my face off and feel and see the bone underneath so I can confirm my alleged humanity. See the blood rushing through the vessels. Sometimes I am sure I am a robot. Maybe even an alien. I have nothing in common with these loud, breeding, mass of clowns and fools. Send me to the moon to do some mining. Send me to Mars. Send me anywhere where I don’t have to confront my otherness. Every mirror I look in is a freak carnival one.

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The Total Unmasking.

Urgent Care.

I was in an Urgent Care Center this morning in the coldest room ever with the worst hacking cough and sore throat. I was by myself. Waiting and waiting for the nurse and then for the doctor and then another nurse came. Took an hour to get my scripts. Coming home, the coughs had stopped. The coughs that had me up all night and left so drained. When I got home the first thing I did was go to sleep. My mother was kind enough to go the pharmacy for me as I was too ill. Later, I felt like I would weep. Because there is no lonely an experience than feeling horrible and being alone. I can’t do this lonely guy thing anymore. I have to really figure out a way to develop some friendships. Today was a nightmare. Right now as I write I feel minor aches and pain but I think this cold is passing. I keep trying to remember that I do have friends, they’re just elsewhere. It’s hard though. God I’m so alone. If anything ever happens to my mother I’ll be ruined. Time is ticking man, I got to do something. I need some of that love that everyone talks about.

Urgent Care.